But, when would it stop? When would she trust him enough to come to him with whatever still haunted her and kept her from being completely his? He answered the question with the same words he’d spoken to her—when she gave him her heart.
Lara drifted through the day in a kind of haze. Sebastien had revealed so much to her, a glimpse of his childhood and of his heart. Astonished by his revelations, she struggled to think on it the rest of the day.
Had he truly said he loved her? Well, not in so many words, but he said he’d given her his heart, and what else could that mean? Lara sat in the solar, working on the tapestry again, and not having much success in figuring out her husband or in completing the section on which she toiled.
But, something was different this day. By the time she rose and dressed, Callum had asked to see her in the hall about the meals and about some household arrangements, Etienne had sent word about the newly completed storage rooms and Margaret approached her over the matter of marriage to Sir Hugh. The morning turned into a glimpse of what could be.
And the afternoon was beginning to follow that pattern as well—Lara was drawn into many activities she’d not done since her father had been in charge here. Callum sent her some trunks of clothing that Sebastien’s soldiers found in the storage rooms, as well as one containing her mother’s precious books, and along with Margaret’s and Catriona’s help, she sorted through them.
Lara was in the solar when she heard shouting outside. She looked out the window and was stunned by the scene unfolding before her. Both James and Sir Hugh faced Sebastien in the middle of the yard, bare-chested, with swords drawn. Many onlookers circled them and cheered them on. She could tell where James’s men stood, as well as her husband’s from their battle cries. Even Sir Hugh had a small group of noisy supporters.
The warriors offered a few taunts to each other and then the fight began. With sword and shield, they attacked and were fended off in turn. Although it appeared to be a friendly clash, soon the intensity grew until blood was flowing. Margaret joined Lara at the window and they both held their breath at the blows given and taken. Lara tried with all her will to keep from screaming aloud.
They were daft! Men were daft. Most likely, they were risking head and hand to settle some wager. James first disarmed, then knocked Sir Hugh to the ground and held him there with the point of his sword at his neck.
“Do you yield, Sir Hugh?” he called out, while fending Sebastien off with his shield.
“Aye,” Sir Hugh replied. And before Lara could say anything to her maid, Margaret was running from the room, her destination never in doubt.
Lara stood frozen in place there, watching as Sebastien went on the attack now, barely waiting for Sir Hugh to gain his feet and leave the fight. She held her breath and then gasped as each blow was struck. James Douglas was an incredible swordsman and there was never a moment’s hesitation in his attack. Sebastien seemed to be pacing himself and not allowing James to goad him into any rash movements.
A long while passed as the men, matched in strength and endurance, continued to swing and hit, duck and bend, twist and turn. Then Sebastien’s shield went flying out of his hand. Definitely at a disadvantage now, he maneuvered to James’s shield side. Charging and then feinting, he managed to get close enough to slide his sword under James’s and send it flying into the air.
Both men went running for it and Lara could hear herself murmuring Sebastien’s name, hoping that he reached it first. And she let out a little cry as he did. Now with both swords and his opponent with only a shield, he attacked and beat the other man back and to the ground.
“I yield,” the Black Douglas called out loudly.
“You what?” Sebastien demanded, holding his sword to the man’s throat.
“I yield to the Lord of Dunstaffnage!” James answered.
As though absorbing the support that poured forth from the men he commanded, Sebastien stood over the prone figure of Scotland’s most feared fighter with outstretched arms. Tears filled Lara’s eyes at the sight of it. She knew it was simply a challenge between friends, but watching it had been overwhelming to her—forcing her to see just a bit of what a real battle was like.
And the dangers of it.
James rolled to his feet and held out the now battered shield to his squire. Sebastien relinquished James’s sword to him and then the men bowed to each other and, turning, to the crowd that watched. The warrior leaned into Sebastien and spoke some words that only they could hear. Then, Sebastien handed his weapon to Philippe. Malcolm ran to his side and seemed to be asking many questions. Sebastien spent some time answering him and then waved both the lads off.
He had such patience with Malcolm’s boyish curiosity, and interest in all things connected to his training. He had patience with her own behavior and her delay in accepting their marriage or even his presence here as lord. She sighed. He had such patience when another man would have retaliated harshly.
That was probably why, despite her best efforts to the contrary, she was falling in love with him now.
Sebastien chose the moment of her realization to look up to the window where she stood. He met her gaze directly and she feared he could read her thoughts. More than once he seemed to have that ability, but she was not ready to show this to him yet. She nodded and stepped back from the window until she knew he could see her no longer.
Lara took a deep breath and waited to see how this new awareness would feel. It could not be a good thing, for there were so many problems involved.
“My lady?” Philippe broke into her daydreaming. “My lord asks you to join him in the yard.” The boy bowed very respectfully and waited for her answer.
“What is this about, Philippe?”
“I am not privy to my lord’s thinking, my lady. He simply bade me to carry this message to you. Oh, your pardon, lady. He bade me tell you to bring your cloak.”
He stood with such a serious look about him, as if delivering this message was a vitally important mission, that she did not have the heart to refuse this summons.
“Very well, Philippe. I will follow you in a moment.”
He appeared inordinately pleased and he bowed to her and left. Lara took her cloak from the peg near the door and went to see what Sebastien wanted of her. She discovered him waiting close to the place where he’d fought with James. His hair was wet and he tugged a tunic back over his head as she approached him.
“My lord,” she said, curtsying in greeting. “Felicitations on your victory over the Black Douglas.”
